Dreams of Darkness and Light
Fandom: Dark City
Pairing: Murdoch/Schreber
Standard disclaimer: I do not own or make money off of 'Dark City' or its characters, this is a work of fan fiction only. :)
It was a month after the Strangers died when John Murdoch finally managed to begin his romance with Emma – now Anna- again. Shell Beach was hollow to him. A perfect plastic paradise, he realized. Nothing more. And so he went back to the city. A few subtle changes in the city, that were as easy for him as breathing now, landed him the penthouse in the apartment building she lived in. Where he could observe her. After that it was only a matter of taking evening walks on the riverfront until he bumped into her again.
She didn't know him beyond their meeting in Shell Beach where her parents lived, of course. Didn't recognize him. But she seemed to take to him quite readily, and her company made him smile. Still, something about it felt fake, like he was just acting out a part in a play.
The first time they made love, it felt somehow wooden, mechanical. He tried to remember their past intimacies to rouse his passion, and hoped she didn't notice.
That night, the nightmares came for the first time. The Strangers, inflicting unspeakable terrors – on her, on John, and Schreber – poor, frightened Schreber with his bright blue eyes and his staggered walk. But no... this was the Schreber from his implanted memories – the doctor was young and whole, but still terrified, reaching for John, screaming a name he couldn't quite hear....
John woke to Anna's frantic voice as she shook him, quaking in terror herself. It took a moment for him to adjust, to realize where he was and what had happened. He blinked fuzzily as Anna clung to him, incoherent with fear.
He'd Tuned in his sleep. The window was bricked over, the walls of the room pressed within feet of the bed. A product of his unconscious mind, he supposed. The need to be closeted. Protected.
He wrapped his arms around Anna immediately, securely, trying to calm her while his mind slowly and silently tuned the room back into place, trying to convince Anna that nothing had happened, that it had all been her nightmare, not his. She didn't buy it. Finally, he just gave in and told her the truth. Not all of it, not the bits about her, and not specifically about Schreber. But about the Strangers and the experiments, the altered memories.
Strangely, the truth calmed her. He would have expected her to be more hysterical, but perhaps the walls moving had peaked her hysteria, and nothing else could be worse. And any explanation was easier to accept than than no explaination at all. They sat up until the sun rose, talking. Or rather, mostly John just talked, and Anna listened. It was what he needed, he realized. Just to feel like someone could listen and not think that he was crazy.
Anna had uncertainties too, it turned out. Dreams she had started having recently, startlingly real, always with the same cast. A lover that she felt so strongly for that she couldn't help but keep feeling that way in her real life. Feelings so strong that she was always searching for the man from her dreams.
"I don't think I'm that man," John found himself saying, surprising himself by doing so. Wasn't that what he wanted? For Anna to remember his love? But it wasn't his love she was remembering. And somehow, he was ok with that.
Anna had given an apologetic smile. She said he was familiar to her, though. That it felt like she'd known him her entire life. And that it was so good, such a relief to be with someone who didn't think she was crazy, someone who could offer some kind of explanation – however crazy – for her dreams and her emotions.
Anna moved in.
They made love, sometimes, but it was awkward and always gave John nightmares. He learned to stop the Tuning in his sleep, but it still unsettled him, so in the weeks that followed they settled into a kind of platonic love, two strangers alone in a world that knew nothing of the truth. They shared a bed, ate dinner together, and went for long walks in the late afternoon sunshine. It wasn't what John Murdoch wanted... but it was all he had.
Then he starts to dream again. Not the nightmares, but strange dreams, dreams that are more like living in someone else's head. At first he dreams about Anna – strange, pointless dreams,dreams of walking a dog with her, pushing her teenaged self playfully out of a small boat. Sometimes she looks much younger, and he ponders why his subconscious is giving him these images. There are others as well – an older couple who he comes to think of as Anna's parents, a younger boy, and a woman who seems to be Anna's friend. And as he dreams, she ceases to be Anna and becomes Sarah.
John clamped his dreams away, never mentioning them to her.
Three months after the Strangers died, he ran into Doctor Daniel Schreber again.
The man hadn't changed, still clad smartly in a three piece suit that would have been distinguished if it weren't for his uneven gait, the twisted facial features with the partly closed right eye. He was sitting at a table at a street cafe, and stood when he spotted John, moving forward in a way that always struck John as painful looking.
"Mr. Murdoch – it's been – some time. Such a nice surprise – to see you." His words were laboured with his troubled breath, but eloquent, and John found himself wondering why he would struggle to use so many words when it was so hard for him to do so.
He managed a smile, shaking Schreber's offered hand. There was something warm and familiar about it that made him pause, that made his previous plans to brush off the Doctor's greeting change. He watched Schreber for a moment, trying to formulate a new plan, not letting go of his hand. "How are you?" He said, finally.
Schreber smiled, the kind of relieved, desperate smile John would have expected from someone who had just been offered a way to cheat death. "I am... all right, thank you. But it – it is difficult sometimes. I feel like – a stranger myself --- in this world."
John found himself nodding. He suddenly realized that he was still holding Schreber's hand, and let it go. "Let's talk over breakfast?" He inclined his head towards the cafe table the doctor had come from. "If you have no plans, of course."
The Doctor shook his head, sitting down with him, watching him. "No, I... I don't really have – have anything to do. Not now. The same, I think, as you?" He ordered a cup of tea, declining breakfast, and John absently did the same.
John looked out into the city, watching the way the sunlight played against the buildings. They were clean now, and repaired; a far cry from the old city with its eternal night. "The same," He said, finally. "I fix things, you know... change some things. Sometimes I make it rain. But... you're right. I don't really have anything to do." He looked back at the doctor, surprising himself by saying, "It's good to see you, Doctor. Thank you for coming to see me."
Schreber looked a little taken aback, and tried to cover his reaction with his cup of tea as the waitress brought it. "And you... as well, Mr. Murdoch."
John ignored the cup in front of him. "Please... call me John. Mr Murdoch reminds me too much of... everything before."
"My apologies," The doctor replied, hesitating for a long moment before offering, "If you like... you may call me Daniel."
There was a calming sense of familiarity in the name, and John found himself smiling. Of course the Doctor should be familiar to him. He'd been implanted throughout John's last fabricated set of memories– a childhood guide and teacher. A constant friend – kind, warm and supportive. Those memories didn't quite feel real now, but he let himself dwell on them for a few moments, enjoying the soft pleasure they brought. "Thank you, Daniel," he found himself saying, and took a sip of his tea.
Daniel was watching him, an uneven smile on his lips that was somehow fond and nervous at the same time. "I hope you... don't mind. I just – wanted to see you, to– to thank you."
John set down his cup. "To thank me?"
"For this." Daniel replied simply, and motioned towards the city. "For stopping them. For..." he hesitated, his voice softening slightly. "For freeing me."
John smiled, shaking his head slowly. "It was you who freed me, my friend," he replied, nursing his tea. It took him a moment to realize that Daniel hadn't spoken, and when he looked up, there were tears in his bright blue eyes.
"Thank you," he said softly. "I was afraid– that you would hate me."
John shook his head slowly. "No... even without the lessons you injected me with..." he tapped his head. "I don't think I could ever hate you. It should be the other way around, with the way I treated you. And..." he mused, half to himself, "You're the only one in this city who really knows me at all..."
Daniel took off his glasses and passed a hand across his eyes before making a show of cleaning the lenses, seeming a bit embarrassed by his own emotion, trying to hide it. "Will you... will you show me your city?"
John smiled, finding himself liking the idea. He left a few coins on the table to pay for the coffee, having discovered that he could tune money as easily as buildings. Daniel seemed to accept this without question, as well as the billfold full of crisp new twenties that John pressed into his hand as an afterthought. He followed John into the hailed taxi cab without question, and John found himself smiling, wondering how long he could manage to make a tour of the city last.
That night, he dreams of Daniel. Not the crippled Doctor, but a younger version of him, whole like he was in his memories. In dreams, nothing shocks John. Somehow, though, he knows that it isn't the doctor from his forged memories. This is the real thing. He is younger, a young professional, a young psychiatrist. Scientist. Or possibly both, he can't quite be sure. John pours over case files with him, talking and comparing notes. They walk together on a long grassy boulevard. They go to dinner with colleagues, eating food so real that John can taste it, even after the dream.
He stared at his expression in the mirror that morning, wondering about it, pondering the realism of it, the images and feelings that lingered. He eyed the stubble on his cheeks and, on a whim, tried to Tune it away. It was easier than he expected, leaving his skin tingling and entirely hairless.
"I'll never get used to seeing you do that," Anna murmured, dressed in her robe, leaning against the bathroom door. She smiled at him. It was Saturday. They went out for breakfast, sitting outside a cafe on the river front. John had a plate of fresh fruit, which was a far cry from the squid ink pasta he remembered from his dream, which he didn't think he'd ever actually tried before. He wondered where the fruit came from in this place. Maybe just another product of the Machine that he has yet to investigate.
They talked about dreams as they ate. He mentioned his own, finally, and once he started he was relieved that it spilled out quite easily. Everything he can recall, apart from Daniel's entrance the night before. It still seemed strange to him, and thinking about it brought a strange feeling of vulnerability, so he focused on Anna, her parents, the girl.
"You should keep a diary," Anna suggested, finishing her toasted bagel with smoked salmon. She ordered another coffee. John had tea this morning, though he was not sure why.
"A diary? What good would that do?"
Anna shrugged, leaning back in her chair. "I'm not sure. But I write everything down when I wake up– everything I can remember. It takes a while, sometimes. Then when I read back over them... sometimes I remember new things. Sometimes I think it's just my own imagination, but... maybe it's more. Maybe writing them down will help me figure it all out." She smiled, optimistic. "If you have time... I would very much like it if you would write down anything you dream about me. More pieces of the puzzle."
Of course he had time. "Where do these come from, Anna?" he mused, though he was asking himself more than anything.
She nursed her coffee, watching him. "I've been thinking a lot about the things you told me. What if the chemicals weren't enough to alter our identities forever? What if we're slowly remembering all the experiences we've had, who we used to be?"
John thought about his dreams with Daniel. "I'm not sure how possible, that would be," he replied. "But... I think I know someone who might know a little more than we do. He knows about the experiments I told you about. He's a psychiatrist– not because I think you're crazy," he adds quickly, teasingly. "But he has some interesting insights on the human mind."
He left money behind, and they walked to Schreber's office, which was only a few blocks from the riverfront, and only a short detour on their way home. The building was mostly empty, the glass storefronts on the bottom floor dark and abandoned, and it seemed lonely to him. Sad.
They went upstairs, and Anna knocked on his door. Somehow John had assumed that he would be in the office on a Saturday, but as he let his mind explore the building, he realized that there were living quarters adjoining the work space. Daniel answered a few moments later, surprised and a little confused to see Anna, but smiled at John beside her. It was still early, but he was dressed just as smartly in his three piece suit, and invited them in immediately. If he found it strange to see John twice in as many days, he didn't say so.
"Please excuse... the mess," he said, though there was none. It seemed rather empty for such a large room, and apart from the shelves filled with books, containing only a large oak desk and the necessary psychiatrist's couch, with a matching chair. "My work is... mainly theoretical, but I have --recently changed the direction of my research. So, you see... I don't have many visitors. Please have a seat." Daniel ignored the seat behind his desk, turning to offer his hand to Anna. "Please forgive me – John has mentioned you so often that I – forget we have not met. My name is -- Doctor Daniel Schreber. I am – a psychologist."
Anna shook it with a smile, and John realized belatedly that he'd neglected to introduce them, lost to his own thoughts yet again. "I'm sorry – Daniel – this is Anna, my..." he hesitated, before finally supplying, "Girlfriend."
Anna laughed pleasantly, charming as always. She was, John reflected, far more happy and optimistic than Emma was in the brief time he knew her. In a way, perhaps her last memory change was for the best. "Pleased to meet you, doctor. John and I were talking this morning about something that's been troubling us, and he thought you might be able to shed some light on the situation." She sat on the couch when bidden, leaving the other end for John, and Daniel settled into the matching chair nearby.
"I can – certainly try. But you must – forgive me if you -- are looking for couple's counselling. That is – not my expertise." He had a sparkle in his eye that John wasn't used to seeing, and Anna laughed at the subtle joke. Daniel's echoing laugh was low and warm, and somehow familiar to John, though he realized he hasn't ever had occasion to hear the doctor laugh, apart from in dreams.
He let Anna talk. She started out a little hesitant, but quickly became eager to spill it all out, details of her dreams – names, situations, relationships – seemingly grateful to have another listening ear, and one with a medical background.
Daniel listened attentively, sometimes prompting her, sometimes clarifying, and in a few cases pulling answers from John. Finally he stood, moving a chart from behind the desk and tearing off the sheet of paper to reveal a new one beneath. He labeled the bottom "Original Psyche" and the top "Present Persona". He wrote "Anna" and "John" under those, and then his name again, with "Emma" beside it. He added a few names under John's, almost as an afterthought, but John didn't recognize any of them.
"Emma?" Anna questioned, and Daniel looked surprised.
"You didn't -- tell her?"
John hesitated, a little ashamed. "She doesn't remember that, and I don't really either. I didn't want to complicate things."
Daniel nodded. "You were his wife," he explains simply, "at least, as far as -- that set of your memories was concerned. There was an error – in implanting John – that night. So he didn't – receive that set. It is—what lead to his powers – today. But you still --- seem to be, somehow – connected."
Anna nodded slowly. "He appears in my dreams. He's not... he's not The One, but... he's there, and he's very familiar to me."
Daniel nodded again, absently, leaning back against his desk to regard the chart. "There is... a very large... empty gap of time for you. For all of us. A time -- where who we were was --- determined only by chemicals. But the problem --- traditionally – with synthetic chemicals, is... they break down. Over time. Perhaps, I think -- our false memories may be --- the same?"
"That we're remembering another lifetime?" Anna asked, and her eyes lit up.
"Or many," Daniel replied, motioning with his pen to the large gap of space between the top and the bottom of the page. "The Strangers – their experiments, they could have been – years. I don't know exactly – how long. The injections were given – every month, or so... more for some—than others. Even for me. So there are– many memories that could– resurface. Or even...." He taped the bottom of the paper with his pen, looking a little excited. "This."
"Our... original memories. Before they took us."
"Who is to say—that the human brain, our --- subconscious. That it wouldn't– have things stored, still. Things that the chemicals– only could mask. Not destroy. Perhaps in dreams, where our– subconscious is strongest– it can bring the real memories– back to life."
Anna began to see Daniel three times a week, after she was done at her job. Sometimes John went with her, though he found himself increasingly useless in the conversation. Her dreams still focused on the family he'd seen, and of course the love of her life. Now John only dreamed about Daniel. Sometimes he was already at the office, when Anna arrived. Officially, he was there for the same reason Anna is, but he can't quite bring himself to tell doctor about the dreams of himself. So instead they talked about Anna, and the city, the workings of the machine, and what little pieces of history they knew. s the next few weeks passed, he found himself spending more and more of his time in the doctor's company. Daniel tactfully let him know how the strangers had provided the city with food and water, and so part of their daily meetings involved making sure that the Machine was creating the needed amount of fresh food, and about once a week travelling with Daniel to make sure the various storehouses were full. It made him realize how much he still had to learn, and all the little things that needed to be done to sustain life in the city, and how lucky he was that Daniel had come to see him. It was also a good excuse to pay the doctor. Daniel protested – he had no overhead on the building, but John insisted. Knowing that the Doctor didn't take clients, he could only assume that the Strangers had provided him, and money was still needed for food and day to day necessities.
"Think of it as a consulting position," he'd told him. "Chief Information Officer for the city. After all, you did offer to one day work for me."
He was on his way over to the doctor's with Anna one day, walking along the riverfront, when they decided to make a stop at a small bakery along the way. Daniel had taken to serving them hot tea with milk in the afternoon as they talked, and John was struck with the idea that it would be nice to take over some scones.
The bakery was warm, rich with the smell of fresh bread and yeast. There was a red-haired girl behind the counter who smiled at him in a way that seemed strangely familiar as he ordered. "Half a dozen blueberry scones..." he stopped. "Do I... know you from somewhere?" The question was absurd, and he knew it as soon as it left his lips. He knew next to no-one here. Even with the last memory imprint, his history focused only on his family, on Emma, and the reoccurring figure of Daniel, teaching him to tune. But this girl's face looked so startlingly familiar that he couldn't let it go.
The girl gave him a curious smile, impish and irresistible. "I don't think so. Did you grow up around here?"
John shook his head slowly. "No... Shell Beach."
"Ah. I must just have one of those faces, then." She handed the box of fresh scones across to him, thanking him. "Sir... is your lady friend all right?"
John turned at her words. Anna still stood by the shop door, watching them, her face as white as a sheet. "Anna?"
"Lets go," She managed softly, and turning, left the store.
John managed an apology to the shop girl, hurrying after Anna, who was already striding towards the office. "Are you alright?" He asked, voice low.
"I'm fine," she replied, though it was obvious that she wasn't. "I don't want to talk about it." John let the issue lay, puzzling over it himself as they walked, reaching the office shortly.
Daniel let them in, noting Anna's distress and carefully not commenting on it, taking the scones from John silently and disappearing into the back. Anna stayed standing, fidgeting, regardless of John claiming his regular spot on the couch. The doctor reappeared a few moments later with the scones on a plate, and a small dish of butter, setting them down on his empty desk. "Anna, how are your dreams?"
Without a word, Anna threw her arms around the doctor's shoulders and burst into tears.
Daniel looked up at John a little bit helplessly, holding Anna gently. "Shh, my dear... what is the matter?"
It took Anna a few moments to compose herself, fishing out a handkerchief to dry her eyes. "It's a girl," She managed between sniffles. "Daniel... what do I do?"
"A... girl?" Daniel sat her down carefully on the couch, crouching in front of her, though John could tell that it pained him to do so. He sat on the other end of the couch, a little awkwardly, feeling somehow as if he was intruding. "Anna... you mean the one you -- have been looking for?"
Anna nodded wordlessly, dabbing away fresh tears. "I feel so stupid," She chokes, shaking her head. "She was in the dreams, she always was. I just assumed... symbolism or something, I didn't think... oh god, what do I do?"
Daniel reached up to take her face in his hands, gently forcing her to look down at him, his expression calm and yet somehow more serious than John had ever seen it. "Anna... are your feelings still strong? This person is the same as in your dreams, correct?"
She lowered her eyes, trembling. "I thought– I thought it was just symbolism, I didn't think... how could she possibly be a woman?"
Daniel leaned back a little, taking her hand in both of his a spark of passion in his eyes. "Anna. Please believe me. This is– this is not wrong, this is not unnatural."
"How can it not be?" Anna whimpered, and Daniel shook his head.
"It's what they wanted -- us to believe. I swear it. They were very... xenophobic, you see. Part of being a collective mind, they believed –that everyone should be -- be the same. They barely tolerated -- people of colour. They eradicated the idea of – of same-sex attraction, in humans. It disgusted them. "
Anna shook her head, clearly overwhelmed by the onslaught of information and ideas. "I don't... I don't understand...."
Daniel shifted his position slightly, wincing a little as he did, to let his weight rest on his knees, but didn't let go of Anna's hands. "I mean to tell you that– that what you feel, what you dream is – completely correct, completely – natural." She doesn't answer for a long moment, so he continued. "These books in my office. They are the only clues that I – have to how life really was. They didn't – they didn't destroy the books, you see. They brought them with us. I guess they – thought that if we couldn't remember what we -- were reading, then – they didn't pose a threat. I convinced them—that my library would help – with the experiments." He gave a little breathless laugh, but it failed to pull Anna from her mood. Daniel sighed. "It was normal. Before we were taken. Women could love, could live together and– and marry. Raise a family. Society will– will revert, will adjust, you will see."
"What do I do in the meantime?" Anna asked softly, helplessly, and the doctor patted her hand gently.
"Nothing that you – that you do not want to. You know now where to find her, yes? Where she is?" When Anna nodded, he continued. "You have as much time – as you would like, then."
Anna nodded, slowly, obviously miserable. "I feel like I'm betraying my dreams," She said softly, closing her eyes for a moment. "I always thought that when my heart finally recognized him – her – that I'd rush right into – her – arms. Just like they say in fairy tales. That it would be everything I ever needed."
Daniel patted her hand again. "Life can be a bit– unexpected sometimes. That's what makes us grow. But let me see if I– have anything that might– help you out." He got to his feet, slowly and painfully, and stood surveying the bookshelves for some time. Then he went to his desk to pull out a thin notebook, leafing through it. "John, you should pour Anna– some tea. And I would like– very much to try a scone."
John moved over to the desk without any further prompting, feeling a little relieved to have something to do. He brought Anna a cup of tea, adding milk and sugar like he'd learned that she liked it, and buttering a scone for her. She regarded the scone silently for a few moments, then took it, nibbling on it as she watched the Doctor move about the room.
Daniel seemed to find what he was looking for without too much difficulty, taking a battered paperback off the top shelf. "Forgive me, I– I have a hard time remembering– where everything is, sometimes. I wrote it down– but every time they injected me– I would have to re-learn my office." He sat, in the chair this time, handing the book across to Anna, the cover bearing the title 'Coming Out of Shame.' "Please– borrow this. Reading it may help you– understand a little more."
The rest of their meeting was brief, and Daniel walked home with them afterwards, claiming the need for exercise. When they reached the door of the apartment building, he hesitated. "John... do you mind to – keep me company a while longer?"
John nodded, giving Anna a reassuring peck on the cheek as she went inside, feeling much more suited to the role of friend, rather than boyfriend. As though this was how it was meant to be. Then he started back along the streets with the Doctor. The sun was setting, and he slowed it down slightly, to give them more time in the golden twilight.
"Are you – all right, John?" Daniel asked, stopping as they passed a small park.
John felt his eyebrows raise slightly. "I'm fine. Did you think I wouldn't be?"
Daniel hesitated, watching him. "I was... unsure, about the nature of your– relationship with Anna. I know you– you loved her."
John was silent for a moment. "It's... difficult to explain," he said, finally. "When I couldn't remember anything, she was the only beacon of calm in the chaos of that miserable eternal night. She believed in me. So I guess I was drawn to her. But... when I romanced her as Anna... I think we both came to realize that we weren't meant to be."
Daniel nodded slowly, and John could see him analyzing, recording the information behind those blue eyes. "But you still live together."
John gave an exhalation of breath. "It's... nice not to be alone, sometimes. I still don't remember very much... Anna is familiar to me. And she knows what I am, knows the horrible past behind this city that I'm making, even if she doesn't remember it firsthand." He paused for a moment. "Did you mean what you said to her?" he asked softly. "About... about women, being together?"
Daniel nodded seriously. "I wouldn't lie to her."
"Have you considered," John asked slowly, "That her dreams... might just be dreams? That this woman we met today... could just be some strange reaction in her brain?"
"I'm not sure," the doctor replied. "I haven't been able– to determine that yet. But her last imprint– there was no design for– mental instability. And she believes that it is real. That is what matters– the most, right now. Support and acceptance– while she goes through this."
John nodded, regarding Daniel a little curiously. "I always meant to ask you... after we took back the city, when I made Shell Beach... I went home to find her there. But why would the Strangers have implanted her with the knowledge to go there? It didn't even exist yet."
Daniel smiled, looking a little pleased with himself. "She was there? I'm very glad of that. It was– rather my doing, you see. A bet—that you'd win. I couldn't stop her from being implanted. You know that. But I made her memories– very carefully, very specifically– in the hopes that she would find you." John must have looked astonished, because Daniel's expression turned a bit concerned. "I'm sorry– if I overstepped my bounds..."
John shook his head slowly. "No... no, thank you. That was very kind of you." He glanced down the road in the direction of Daniel's office, then Tuned a small park bench in the greenery and sat down, patting the seat beside him. "You never had any doubt that I'd win?"
The Doctor was silent for a long moment, looking out at the street, watching the few cars and pedestrians that hurried by. "I gambled everything -- on you. I'm still– amazed that they– didn't kill me instantly– when I injected you with the wrong syringe."
John regarded him, the guilt of his actions creeping back to him. "I should have taken it from you in the beginning. I should have trusted you. I'm sorry."
"You didn't– have any reason to," Daniel replied. "I was a– traitor to our kind. Safer not to trust me."
"I'm sure you had you reasons," John supplied, but the Doctor doesn't volunteer any details. "I'm sorry for hurting you," John said, finally.
Daniel smiled slowly, turning back to look at him. "Then we both– have things to regret. But John– I forgave you long ago." The sun had set while they were talking, and he stood, looking a little wistful. "I should... get home. Anna needs you."
On a whim, John stood as well, wrapping his arms securely around the other man's waist. "I'll take you," he said softly, before lifting them quickly off the ground.
Daniel clutched at him in a sudden panic, choking on his breath, and John quickly landed on the roof of the nearest building, loosening his grip. "Daniel?"
"Don't let go!" Daniel almost barked, shaking in his grip and John obliged, even though they were standing solidly on the rooftop.
"I'm sorry– are you ok?"
"Acrophobia," Daniel managed to gasp, his fingers digging painfully into John's shoulders. "They loved – to tease me with it. But I never – got over it."
"I'm sorry– I'll take you back down to the street and we can walk," John felt almost ashamed, guilty at having inadvertently caused his panic, but Daniel shook his head.
"No... no. Just... just give me a moment." He drew soft, shallow breaths, keeping his eyes closed as he slowly loosened his death grip on John's shoulders. "I'm sorry. I'll be all right." He managed to open his eyes, looking up at John, suddenly the trembling, vulnerable man that John had first met.
"I didn't mean...." He sighed. "I feel like a right asshole."
"It's all right," Daniel replied quickly, nervously. "It just -– surprised me. I'm sorry. We can go."
John wrapped his arms around him tightly, feeling strangely protective of him as he used his abilities to quickly cover the distance to Daniel's office. He didn't bother landing, but Tuned open the large window in Daniel's office, setting them down gently inside. "We're here."
Daniel carefully let go, looking a little gray, and sat down carefully behind the desk before pouring himself a cup of cold tea. "Thank you for the– escort," He said finally, managing a little weak smile, his nerves calming. "I'm sorry not to be a– more appreciative– passanger. I'm sure Anna– loves it."
John shook his head. "I've never taken her flying," he replied. "But I think she'd have about the same reaction."
"Will I see you tomorrow?" Daniel asked softly, and John nodded, smiling.
"Tomorrow. And no more flying."
He dreamed again of Daniel that night, another dream to add to the library, dreams that had grown more frequent, more real. Sometimes it made him feel almost like he was living two separate lives. One was this city... Anna, the crippled doctor, the world he didn't fit into despite all his powers. And the other... the other was blissful, and yet somehow disturbing. For in the dreams, it became undeniably clear that Daniel was his lover.
The dreams start in the office, start with work. And then somehow there are touches- gentle, simple touches- the caress of Daniel's hand on his, soft touches to his arms and shoulders. The way Daniel's blue eyes sparkle when he talks. The way that he feels when he meets those eyes with his, the desire in them. A night at the opera in a private box, and Daniel leaning over to steal a kiss, finally admitting his attraction. And the dreams progress, into stolen, breathless kisses that make John ache with need. Long embraces that feel so real- Daniel's body warm and strong against him, pressing him up against the door inside his office. Daniel's voice husky with need. "We shouldn't be doing this..." But John wants anything but for him to stop. And then passion– hot and needy, their limbs tangled with the sheets in John's bed, kisses so intense that it seems as though they will steal each other's breath as they make love.
John awoke from that dream in a hot sweat, troubled by the ebbing shivers of passion that still raced through his body and the mess he left in his shorts. He stumbled to the en-suite bathroom, finding himself thinking how glad he was that Anna had moved into one of the other rooms as he cleaned himself up, putting on new clothes and getting back to bed.
Still, he couldn't sleep. His mind was pulled back to the imagined passion that was somehow so real that he could still feel Daniel's lingering kisses on his skin. He closed his eyes tight in agony, unwilling to try and think about what this could mean, and unable to keep his mind and body away from Daniel. His body betrayed him, too eager to respond to the remembered passion, and finally he gave in, stroking himself a little helplessly to the vivid memories until he came again. Finally, the images ebbed, and he dreamed a sleep without dreams.